


Fiery Eyes

by Bibliophage413



Series: A Shared Experience [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Dysphoria, Cole (Dragon Age) Talks A Lot, Cole Kickstarts the Talking About Your FeelingsTM, Gender Dysphoria, Helpful Cole (Dragon Age), Internalized Transphobia, M/M, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Inquisitor, depends how you interpret it, kind of, well angst with the implication of a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-01-15 20:10:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18506197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibliophage413/pseuds/Bibliophage413
Summary: Dorian knows the Inquisitor is sweet on him. It takes a certain helpful spirit spilling the beans and confirming it to get him off his ass to do anything about it though.





	Fiery Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Just real quick; this is my first ever (published) fic so please let me know if there are any errors I didn't catch! More importantly though, like our Trevelyan in this fic, I am also a trans man. I wrote this as a vent of my insecurities about dating cis men. 
> 
> Also: like a lot of the "Cole Fixes the Non-Communication" fics out there, feelings are outed without the permission (and in this case without the knowledge) of the person feeling them. This conflict is addressed in the fic, but if that's something that would bother you a lot, I'd ask that you do what's best for yourself and either see yourself out or proceed having been warned.

Dorian watched as Trevelyan walked down the hall towards the stares of the rookery, eyes lingering on his frame for perhaps a moment longer than was proper. He shook his head as he turned back to his work, a smile lingering on his lips. A quiet voice spoke from the corner of the library.

 

_“No matter how soft he smiles his dimples always shine through, eyes crinkled up at the corners. His laugh seems to pierce right through to my heart. Makes me feel light, giddy, wanted… when was the last time I felt wanted…”_

 

Dorian jumped at the sound of his thoughts being spoken aloud. He turned on his heel to see a slight figure tucked against the bookshelf across from the stairs. There had been no footsteps signaling his approach. In fact Dorian wondered if the man walked anywhere or if he simply appeared and disappeared as he pleased. The young man’s head was lowered and his hands were worrying at his collar, a large hat obscuring most of his face. Dorian frowned. “Ah, you’re Cole I presume? It’s good to finally meet you.”

 

“We’ve met. But you forgot,” Cole said flatly, now fussing at the fraying edge of his sleeve.

 

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I heard you could do that. Neat little trick, must be useful for embarrassing situations. Was there something you needed?”

 

Cole shifted nervously from foot to foot. “There’s something you should know. It would be good for you to know, and good for him as well. But I’m –“ Cole began picking at the skin on his fingers, his agitation increasing by the second, “I’m not sure if it’s right for me to tell you. He might get upset, but I know he won’t tell you and it’s – it’s _hurting_ him to not to.”

 

Dorian sighed and folded his arms. “Well, I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, but if it’s eating you up that much I say spit it out and have it done with.”

 

Cole looked up, but his eyes went past Dorian to the rookery above them.

 

 _“A thousand pairs of eyes surrounding me at every moment. Despising. Distrusting. Fearing. Pleading._ Needing. _But_ him… _Silver tongue and golden eyes. They light up when he sees me coming. A fire flaring up inside him. Hot. Searing. Wanting…_ _Does he truly want me?_ How _could he want me? I’m not like any man he’s been with, any he should want. Why would he want me if he knows…”_

 

Dorian’s eyes grew wide and his heart began to pound in his chest as he put together what he was hearing. Voice low so as not to draw attention, “Cole on the other hand it may be best to—“

 

Cole continued, either for lack of notice or in spite of Dorian’s protest; _“chestnut skin and hardened muscles. Calloused hands spark up a flame as casually as they thumb the page of a book. How would those hands feel on my body? I want him close, to hold him, to see all of him and for him to see me. I’m afraid that gaze of his has spread its fire to my own heart…”_

 

Dorian’s face was flushed, he could feel it. These were Trevelyan’s thoughts he was certain now, thoughts Dorian was clearly not meant to hear. Cole had so far kept his voice quiet, thank the Maker for small mercies, but Dorian knew in his heart that this was probably not how Trevelyan would prefer his mind to be known. Yet Dorian couldn’t help a certain amount of curiosity.

 

He cleared his throat and said, “Cole, while I’d love to hear all the things our dear Inquisitor thinks about in his intimate moments, I must ask you to stop this for everyone’s sake. I do have one question though.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I remember the Inquisitor telling me this, but correct me if I’m mistaken; I thought you could only overhear thoughts that cause pain?” Cole’s gaze fell to the floor again as he refused to look Dorian in the eye. Dorian was almost too nervous to ask but he had to clarify. His voice low, he asked, “You said these thoughts were hurting him Cole. How?”

 

“It’s more complicated than that, what things I can hear and what things I can’t,” he seemed to think a moment before returning his gaze to the rookery. “What I can hear always leads back to pain, or a way to help. It’s not all at once either, I have to sift through the pieces to find the core of it.”

 

His voice, which up til now had been light and soft, took on a much darker tone. “ _Eyes once playful now filled with disgust. How he’d recoil if he knew what I want. I can never be what he wants. A normal man. A natural man. A beautiful man like him. After all he’s done to live as himself, it would be insulting of me to ask.”_

 

Cole’s words came faster and faster as he continued to speak. _”Hips still wide and full. Chest hacked off by my own blade. Womb burnt and shriveled by the poison I fed it. She still clings to my shape, to my very_ _bones, but never to my heart. That much is mine. But a look from him has set my heart ablaze with… something. Bright. Intoxicating. Agonizing. I must smother that flame. Better to say nothing. Risk nothing. He can never know.”_

 

Dorian felt as if the floor had vanished beneath him and he was left tumbling through empty space. Cole looked Dorian in the eye at last, albeit a bit sheepishly.

 

“He was never going to tell you, so… I did. I knew nothing I said to him would help, so I thought…” he looked down at his hands and began twisting his fingers together anxiously. “His mind is a writhing knot of pain and discomfort.” Cole’s voice shook slightly as he continued, “I can’t – I can’t untangle it all, he has to do it himself. I know that now, but,” he looked up at Dorian again, “he needs to know you’d have him. Nothing I say would mean anything. He has to hear it from _you_.”

 

And suddenly Dorian was alone in the library. There was no puff of smoke; Cole was there one moment and not the next. Dorian’s mouth was dry, and he realized he’d had it open all through the tail end of Cole’s little speech. He quickly shut it and made his way over to his chair by the window, which he sat down heavily in. He could hear his mother’s voice in his head, _Do not_ plop _Dorian. Hands down first then lean the rest of yourself in._

 

He sighed heavily and put his head in his hands. A seed of panic was growing in his gut. He should not have heard these things. Full stop. And yet here were Trevelyan’s thoughts, swirling around his mind without any kind of permission from either of them. He had no personal reference point for the pain Trevelyan felt in regards to his body, but that default assumption of rejection… the catastrophizing… oh Dorian knew that all too well. It was like a rot in your mind telling you you’d never be good enough, anyone putting up with you now was just humoring you. Eventually you’ll slip up and they’d _know_. And who knows what they’d do if they _knew_. He could feel his pulse pounding through his whole body. He breathed in slowly through his nose, held it, then exhaled shakily against the heel of his hands.

 

_He needs to know you’d have him…_

 

Of course Dorian would have him! He’d have him in any and every sense of the phrase so long as Trevelyan would have him back. Though it seemed Trevelyan held no love for his own body, Dorian found the Inquisitor's form one of a delightfully distracting nature. Beautiful was the word that came to mind, but was not one Dorian would say out loud given the more feminine connotations of the word. Handsome fit him better but did no justice to the sheer exquisite quality Dorian saw in every facet of the other man's frame. Words failed him, but that hadn't stopped him from calling Trevelyan handsome on occasion. The way that it made Trevelyan blush and stammer was well worth any shortcomings Dorian saw in the word.

 

 _He has to hear it from_ you.

 

He'd known Trevelyan was sweet on him. The man was not subtle. He’d seen the soft glances and felt the warmth behind the light teasing. But it’d been just that: just teasing, just glances, nothing you couldn’t pass off as just good fun between friends. There came a moment however, Dorian knew, where you had to drop the pretense and decide. And to his surprise Dorian realized that moment had come and gone. He knew where he stood.

 

Dorian rose from his seat and began hastily walking down the stairs out of the library. The Inquisitor would be done with his rounds in about an hour, if he didn't have any impromptu war room meetings to attend. Dorian entered the throne room, but stopped when he saw the Inquisitor. How had he gotten down here so fast? Did he pass by while Dorian was stewing in his own indecision? Oh Maker, had he overheard what Cole had told him? Dorian looked to see who the Inquisitor was speaking to and saw peeking over Trevelyan's head the unmistakably gaudy chantry hat of Mother Giselle. Dorian couldn't hear what they were discussing but Trevelyan's shoulders were tense and Mother Giselle looked grim. Dorian slowly retreated back through the hall. Solas gave him an odd look as he made his way back up the stairs of the library. He'd planned on waiting in Trevelyan's quarters, but there was no way he'd be able to sneak by now. He sighed, resisting the urge to run his hand through his hair. It would have to wait.

 

Just as he was settling back into his research, Dorian heard someone walking up beside him. He spared them a glance, before doing a double take. Trevelyan stood next to Dorian’s desk, arms held awkwardly behind him. Dorian just stared up at the man, his mind utterly blank for a moment before recovering.

 

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said with a carefully put together smirk. His shoulders relaxed a bit as he slipped back into his more playful demeanor. Maker willing, Trevelyan had not heard what was being spoken here only just minutes before. “Is there something else I can help you with, my dear Inquisitor?”

 

“Dorian, there’s a letter you need to see.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know if y'all would like a follow up fic to this. I have something like that in the works but it's not much at the moment.


End file.
